


The Knight's Final Promise

by akio_momiji



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I
Genre: Dark Souls - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, NkStein, True Love's Kiss, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 05:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akio_momiji/pseuds/akio_momiji
Summary: [“Your Highness-”-”Ornstein. Promise me.”“Your Highness, I do not know if I-”-”Promise me. Without your promise, I shall never be at peace.”]The prince and his knight part. Or do they?





	The Knight's Final Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moon_Theatre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Theatre/gifts).

> A fic for Moon_Theatre's birthday. It started out as a kiss prompt which was long overdue, so I expanded it.

Steps of gold imbued with lightning echoed from the vast walls of white marble. Rays of sunlight broke through the hall's vast windows, illuminating it, bathing the tiles and pillars in their warm color. Golden armour reflected those rays so that the figure whose steps caused the echo barely cast a shadow.

The war had been won and the sun had risen again over Anor Londo. The sun shone again into these halls, it was not dancing fire casting shadows, but calm and soothing light. Flames, they were far now. Gone with the dragons they had slain, only ablaze in the Lord Soul and the First Flame.

In spite of their victory, the Dragonslayer's steps were heavy today. His battle wounds had long healed and he had picked his routines back up after the war, yet he could not help but feel the hardest of times was still to come. Even if the dragons had perished under Lord Gwyn, Darkness would lurk everywhere regardless.

Ornstein could not help but bite his cheek and clench his fist around his spear as he rode up the elevator to meet his Prince and Captain, The Sun's Firstborn. During the war, they had fought side by side, had sparred together and even went out for a few drinks whenever their duties would allow it- yet, Ornstein could not deny that ever since the war had been won, these occasions had become less, or then, there had been something like melancholy and sadness in his Prince's eyes.

The war, it had taken its toll not only on the city and the land, but also on its people, no matter if they were slaves or commoners or knights or even a god. War was like a dark curtain slowly draping over the sun and smothering any hopeful flame one tried to ignite. And even in times of peace- its aftermath would linger. As someone who had fought countless battles and lost countless fellows in the process, Ornstein knew well that these memories were hard to erase. Not even immortality or the glory of a god could make up for such a burden on one's mind.

Lost in these thoughts, the lion knight realized too late that he had long reached the next floor and that the elevator was already spiraling down again. He took a sigh and waited for it to go back up, trying to not be distracted this time. At the top yet again, he stepped out hastily and walked further towards his Captain's quarters.

Surprisingly, before Ornstein could knock, the vast doors were already pulled open by no other than His Highness himself. Light from behind illuminated his whole, majestic figure and if Ornstein hadn't known better, he would have mistaken him for an ethereal being- if there even was anything more ethereal than a god of war.

He inhaled sharply at the sight and clutched his spear tighter, resisting the urge to gasp in awe and immediately fall to his knees like one did before a god. Yet, after all, he was this god's most loyal knight and direct subordinate. How pathetic it would be to crawl before him like a lizard from seeing him alone? Thus, he straightened himself and waited for his Captain to either bid him inside or walk out to him- however his Highness pleased, Ornstein would comply.

“I have expected you,” the Prince's voice now sounded and he stepped aside, nodding inside his room. “Come in.”

Ornstein caught his breath. For some reason, he was glad to wear his helmet so his Highness could not see the faint blush on his cheeks that his glorious entrance had caused. Slowly and as gracefully as possible, he strut past his Prince into the room. All windows were opened and a gentle breeze moved the silky, translucent curtains like fog at dawnbreak. The knight hummed, observing the curtains' dance for a while as his Prince pushed the door shut and turned at him.

“Why so heavily armored? Were you scared when I asked to see you alone?,” the prince asked with an amused undertone.

Ornstein stood with his back to him, then slowly turned around.

“This knight would never think of being scared of His Highness or his orders,” he spoke and humbly bowed his head. “It is just that times of fresh peace have me feel uneasy. As if a backlash of the war could come over us anytime, when we least expect it.” He paused and walked over to the wall, leaning his spear against it and gazing out of the window.

“Is it not so that His Highness feels uneasy, too?”

Silence fell, and for a while, only the soft wind played its symphony in the room and tension built up like lightning between the two men inside. The Sun's Firstborn stepped beside his knight, sharing his gaze somewhere in the distance.

“You are not mistaken.”

They lingered for a while, gazing over this glorious and legendary city of Gods, bathed in sunlight and glowing in white marble. Sometimes, Ornstein wondered whether his eyes and those of His Highness focused on the same spots, stopped in the same corners or on the same people. As serene as this moment of overlooking the place from above seemed, both people seemed to ponder as if a storm were raging inside.

“Ornstein. Let us walk for a bit. But take your helmet off first so I may see your face.”

The lion knight hesitated. He wondered whether he could show himself the way he looked right now. The war had taken its toll on him and he thought that maybe, His Highness had seen him miserable enough.

“If you do not feel like following my plea, this is a command,” the Prince now said more firmly.

Ornstein had no choice but comply this time.

“His Highness' wish is my command,” he uttered and removed his helmet. As he did, his hairtie loosened as well and long, red waves fell over his shoulders down to his hips. He tugged his helmet under his arm, with the other one he brushed some hair out of his face as he turned it away from the Prince. The latter only hummed.

“You have not yet healed?,” he inquired as he turned at Ornstein, compassion in his voice, and even a hint of worry.

“I believe the time will come for it to heal. Do not worry, your Highness. This knight will be alright and his wounds are being taken care of those who should be concerned with them,” was Ornstein's answer.

“Then you can well look at me,” the Prince concluded, reached out and gave the knight's shoulder a gentle pull.

Green eyes met the bright blue orbs of the Prince before him, and Ornstein swallowed. As much as he wanted to, he could not avert his gaze. The eyes of His Highness- they were captivating!

For a few seconds, they only gazed at each other, then the Firstborn's eyes wandered alongside his hand, which started feeling around Ornstein's eye.

The area around the lion knight's left eye was graced with marks of a big claw. While all other wounds were healing slowly but surely, this one was making his life difficult. It always had a bright red color as if it were fresh, and every night and day it burned like dragonfire.

The knight had no memory of how he had received it, yet he had felt insecure and hideous since.

And now, here he was, the scar and his freckled face exposed to His Highness who held him in such high regards.

Ornstein held his breath as the Firstborn's fingers gently traced the claw mark, examining its structure. His eyes were narrowed and he wore a small frown between his brows.

“It will stay,” he murmured. “But I can help you make it hurt less.”

With these words, suddenly warmth like a ray of isolated sunlight gathered at the Prince's fingertips and spread out all over the cuts on the knight's face as he moved over them gently.

“Hold still.”

And so, Ornstein did. He was exasperated at his Captain's gentle gesture and rendered speechless. The warmth did not only spread into his wound- it spread all over his face, into his heart, his mind, his spirits. He barely noticed the smile this affectionate treatment put on his face.

His lips were still curved when the Prince withdrew and eyed what he had done.

Suddenly, Ornstein felt indescribable strength flow through his whole being. He felt his powers, which the war had drained so greatly, double in force, felt his injuries heal with much greater speed, felt warmth explode in his body like a lightning miracle of the gods.

Wide eyes looked at the Sun's Firstborn.  
“Your Highness- what did you do?”

Silence, and then:  
“Ornstein, you seem better. Let us walk for a bit.”

The knight resisted the urge to let out an impatient huff. Why would his Highness, who was such a heated person and inherently straightforward be this secretive all of a sudden?

The ever-loving sun caressed both men's faces as they stepped outside. Somehow, all heaviness had faded from the lion knight's steps, as well as his former unease. He did not know about how his scar looked now, but walking beside his Highness, bathed in his infinite grace and glory, somehow Ornstein felt invincible.

At the spiral tower, the Firstborn stopped in his stride and leaned on one of the railings.

“I will leave this city behind, my friend,” he said as his gaze was set somewhere in the distance, somewhere only he knew.

Ornstein gasped and his former euphoria yielded shock.

“Your Highness-!,” he called out and ran to his side, grabbing the Prince's shoulders in a fit of emotion.

“Your Highness, why would you say such a thing? This city- our Anor Londo- needs you, your Highness!”

The Firstborn was quiet, yet his gaze remained firm. With a sigh, he pried his hands off the railing to turn at his loyal knight.

“Ornstein. Many battles have been fought in and over this city. People and creatures have fallen, and on their ashes we have rebuilt this place, over and over again. We have ascended to godhood, claimed the reign over these lands, its people and its treasures- but I cannot help but wonder what lies beyond. I cannot help but wonder how righteous our doing has been after all, or whether the blood we bear on our hands is greater than our glory could ever be.”

Ornstein's eyes grew wider with every word his Prince was speaking. Was this what his gloominess had been all about? Was he stricken by guilt over his bloodline's deeds? Did he feel undeserving of his position, of godhood?

He struggled for words, but burst out: “Your Highness! What about all of this? Could it be the spur of the moment? This is a heavy decision. You are out of your mind!”

He let go of the prince's shoulders and turned away, hugging himself tightly. For a second, he did not care whether this proud knight looked pathetic. He was trying to argue against the prince's decision with strategy, with logic, with the greater good- yet all he could think of were his own selfish needs and wishes and desires.

Ever since he had sworn fealty to lord Gwyn and his family, the time spent with his lord's firstborn had meant the world to him. Their union, it was close to his heart, and thus he could not just see his Captain go. Not like this- not without proper reasoning!

“Ornstein.”

The lion knight gazed over his shoulder, hair falling over his shoulder and freckles glowing in the gentle sunlight.

“Why still call me when his Highness has made his decision long ago,” he spoke coarsely, only slowly turning back around.

The prince took a sigh.

“Your path is wholly different than mine. I only found out recently. In spite of it all- I hope you keep hunting many dragons, so one day, you will earn the glory of gods. I gave you all you need for now.”

Ornstein's mouth fell open and his lips quivered slightly. What did this mean? He looked at his hands which almost unnoticeably had started trembling, then he rose up one of them and felt for the scar around his eye. The wound felt much less agitated, much less swollen, and rather warm than hot. This wound was the place where the light had entered him. Did this mean-?

He withdrew his hand and his eyes met those of his Captain, the Sun's Firstborn and the first one of the Knights of Great Lord Gwyn.

He thought to see the light's reflection more strongly in the other's eyes, almost as if they were watery. He could not bear it any longer, approached the prince's radiant but somehow remorseful figure and whispered, eyes downcast:  
“Your Highness... what is hunting dragons and the glory of gods, if the price shall be... to dwell in this lost city without a trace of you?”

Silence fell as the knight looked to the ground. Then, suddenly, he felt a push under his chin and his eyes met those of the prince. Their faces were close- much closer than they had ever been, as they stood here on top of it all.

The war had been won, the sun shone down on them, victory, victory everywhere, glory, justice, victory, glory. Yet all they saw in each other's eyes now was the pain of undeniable separation.

Yet, in the Prince's eyes there sparked hope like the force his lightning emitted.

Ornstein held his breath when he leaned in more, his forehead now against that of the knight.

“Your Highness,” he gasped, yet a finger on his lips silenced him gently. Instead, the Firstborn spoke:  
“I said I would leave the city behind and that our paths are different. Yet, we shall always be united, for you now bear a part of me. Whenever you are ready for our paths to merge- you will know where to find me,” he whispered, his finger now wandering from the lion knight's lips to his freckled cheek.

“Your Highness I-,” Ornstein could only gasp again, but fell silent in an instant every time he tried to say more. What had his Prince done earlier when he pretended to heal his wound? What was all this talk about godlike glory and always bearing a part of him? Answers, why would he not be given answers?

“Ornstein. Promise me you will take good care of the company. I shall step back as a Captain soon, and then it will only be a matter of time until I fall from grace.”

The knight's lips quivered, yet he nodded. They stood so close, yet his Prince's voice seemed far, in spite of his breath against Ornstein's face. He wanted to make an answer, say something, anything to his prince, yet before he could, the latter was already speaking again:

“Please also promise to take care of yourself. Even if I fall from grace, I know you will be the one to carry on my glory, my grace and my memory.”  
A lone tear now crawled over Ornstein's cheek. He had tried to hold it, yet now it made its way over his face like a drop of liquid sunlight. Why was his prince speaking as if he were to turn to ash any second?

Ornstein bit his lip, his adam's apple bopping as he tried and failed to swallow more tears that rose inside of his throat.

“Your Highness I- you are asking... are you not asking to much from this humble knight?,” he managed to whisper.

The other one's lips curved into a gentle smile and the hand which cupped the knight's cheek softly wiped the tears away.

“I am not. I am confident to have taught you well. I put all my confidence and my trust in you. If someone like me could have risen to godhood and been granted immortality- then why not you. If we both were immortal- would we not find each other again?”

Ornstein's lips quivered as his gaze met that of his prince and captain yet again. How could he smile in times like this, how could he be so confident when they were about to part, how could he not know that the beacon of this knight's confidence was the one who stood right here with him, who now held his cheek and leaned his forehead against his own?

“Your Highness-”

-”Ornstein. Promise me.”

“Your Highness, I do not know if I-”

-”Promise me. Without your promise, I shall never be at peace.”

These last words were spoken as the Sun's firstborn leaned even closer towards his loyal knight in shining armor.

The knight's final promise was a silent one, a promise unspoken, sealed with lips gently pressed against one another, sealed with a kiss and the first spark of eternal love.


End file.
